


She's A Pirate

by Flapjaw



Category: Jim Henson's The Dark Crystal Series - J.M. Lee, The Dark Crystal (1982), The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (TV)
Genre: Blades, Captain - Freeform, Exploration, F/M, Gen, Healing, High Seas, Ocean, Pirates, Post-Canon, Revenge, Sewing, Ship, Stockholm Syndrome, swamp
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-01 04:27:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21376489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flapjaw/pseuds/Flapjaw
Summary: After being betrayed by the Sifa, Naia, Tae, skekZok and skekSo, skekSa was imprisoned in a tree. As if that wasn't galling enough, she hears the brats she'd tried to help implementing her plan, and having the nerve to take credit for it. As the Darkening spreads her organic prison weakens, and when it breaks there will be Hell to pay.The only things skekSa desires more than revenge are nectarwine, a ship, and someplace to be that isn't the blasted Skarith region.// Takes place after the events of the J.M. Lee books and assumes a mixed canon between them and Age of Resistance. \\
Comments: 16
Kudos: 28





	1. Swamp Rot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my Patrons for making this possible.
> 
> High-Riders: Absolute Zero & Jcotton  
Fifth Degrees: Derik Harris & Extormus
> 
> My Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/Flapjaw

From a balcony connected to Smerth-staba, Maudra Naia stared at the tree that had grown from her mother’s sacrifice, and she pondered.

Twenty trine had passed since that fateful moment, a moment that seemed to exist in a time saturated with such importance. The Gelfling had been divided, marching toward unity and resistance, and stumbling along the way. Important political figures were murdered, an ancient being had made the ultimate sacrifice at the apex of several such sacrifices, and a path had been laid out in prophecy for Naia’s entire species. The Crystal of Truth would be restored, by Gelfling hand or else by none.

Since then, they had waited in the swamp. Rian, Gurjin, and Kylan still hid near Stone-in-the-Wood, searching for Deet when last they’d communicated over seven trine ago. The Northern Gelflings were out at sea, so far away that they could no longer send messages back. Even after all their efforts, Naia’s insistence that the urRu deserved to live had forced her people to scatter to the furthest reaches of the world. As soon as they had become one clan, they had split in two, the Northern and the Southern.

She had certainly not been idle in all that time, but it was easy to let herself succumb to peace. Though she kept busy with stately affairs and ensuring no Garthim soldiers penetrated far into Sog, she also enjoyed a simple family life. The pressure of war with the Skeksis was surprisingly light thus far, and the more Naia was convinced that her strategy was working, the more her thoughts turned to the people she was protecting.

Fostering cooperation between the old clans was slow-going. Her marriage to Amri, a Grottan, helped that immensely, but it wasn’t enough for many of the malcontents. Maudra Argot had been beyond the age for concern over such things, and she’d passed peacefully in her sleep three trine ago. As for Mera, she had a female heir to take her place if she passed, and that heir was purely Spriton. Mera’s two new daughters replaced the dead, and whispering of Thra’s will to bring balance was causing trouble. It was said that Thra was reducing them to one leader, one Maudra, as they were now one clan.

Naia had mused that perhaps the old ways were as poisonous as the Skeksis ways, that her three sons had as much right to rule as any daughter, that a singular ruler for an entire clan was a dangerous arrangement. Only lately had she realized that her arguments were founded on a selfish impulse to maintain her family’s power, merely her attempt to strike back at the rhetoric of Mera’s supporters. Afterall, why should any particular family have more sway or importance than any other?

What troubled Naia most were strange nightmares she sometimes endured. She would awaken with daughters rather than sons, her position against Mera reversed, and she’d watch herself go through the dismissive motions that Mera practiced in the waking world. Naia wanted to think that she would have questioned the old ways of her people either way, but the lingering fear that she may not have done so in any other case disquieted her regularly.

The love of her life had been such a disheartening presence of late, too. Amri just went along with the traditional place of his sex in Gelfling society, and he often wore a look of immense guilt when they were alone. She could tell from intimate dreamfasts with him that he blamed himself for her position, as if her womb bearing only sons was the result of some deficiency in his own body. He silently stewed and thought of his virility as _peasant seed_, meant to produce workers and guards rather than Maudra or noble huntresses. Over the trine, Naia’s attempts to console him had lost their potency, and he spent more time than ever despising himself.

As for the Garthim and their master’s, Naia feared that they had already ended Rian, Kylan, and her brother. In the last few trine they had been probing the defenses of Sog, and many of the trained muski and nebrie being used to bury Garthim in the mud were being killed in the effort. Naia’s healing vliyaya served to keep injured Gelfling guards and soldiers from being lost, but sometimes a detachment was killed outright, and Naia could not restore the dead, whose essence, whose vliya, had already returned to Thra. The Garthim were difficult to destroy, and those that were buried were dug back up by more of their number, for the diabolical Lord Scientist, skekTek, to reanimate once again.

All was not yet lost, however. Naia reminded herself that there was some good news to celebrate. There were many Sifan Gelflings who had donated their ships to others who wished to sail Northward, so they could in turn live in the care of Great Smerth in the heart of Sog. The change of scenery had been appealing to them then, and recently presented a solution. Their expertise in building and sailing ships was soon to be the salvation of the new Southern clan.

Naia had once speculated that there was another coast deeper in the swamp than any Drenchen had traveled before, and, though it had taken much effort to forge past the ever-thickening mire, she had been proven right nine trine ago. The Sifan secrets were being put to good use at the shore, while Drenchen methods created supply routes through the apeknot trees to keep the work moving. Already there were three ships, one fully stocked, filled with preserved foods, each waiting patiently for more ships to be built next to them. When there were eighteen of such size and supply, the entire Southern Clan would leave the Skarith region behind until the next Great Conjunction, as the Northern Clan had already done.

  
  


Naia decided that she had spent enough time musing from a distance and leaped to the ground from the balcony, her wings making her descent light and graceful, as a Maudra always should be.

With her hand placed on the Laesid Tree, as it had been named, Naia let her thoughts wonder to happier places, to the joy of the young and eager Gelflings. Eliona and Pemma, her younger sisters, had taken to the healing vliyaya that their family was known for rather quickly, and had helped Naia in teaching the next generation. Her eldest son, already eighteen trine old, had the adventurous spirit that his father once possessed, and was Naia’s most attentive and capable student. In honor of her late mother, Naia had given him a male variation on Laesid’s name, Lanar.

Lanar was as mischievous as he was capable, however. Even now he’d gone missing, again. As if to provide some compensation to his mother for his male birth, his inability to be her heir, he would stalk the borders with the soldiers to learn about the Garthim. He took lessons from every sort of teacher, learning to write from the Vapra, to man a ship from the Sifan, how one would survive and cross a desert from the Dousan, and the many animal calls the Spriton knew were now his as well. Naia’s guards had already checked most of the usual places, so Lanar must have been at the farthest on that day, staring out at the Southern Sea from one of their vessels, dreaming of a glorious future.

What troubled Naia about Lanar most was his obsession with the Skeksis. Naia’s stories of their ferocity and cunning had frightened her younger sons, cautioning them against being reckless or spending too much time alone. Perhaps Lanar, being the oldest and feeling more guilt over his sex than his brothers, was drawn to the Skeksis because of what they represented. They were an obstacle yet to be overcome. The enemies that brave Gelfling heroes would have to subdue one day so they could restore the Crystal of Truth. For someone so determined and passionate, danger was more exciting and motivating than frightening or stifling.

“Oh mother, I’m sorry. I think I’ve lost my touch over the trine. I can no longer feel your presence lingering in the tree.” Naia bowed her head and shook it slowly, supposing she would have to speak to the tree openly to feel at peace with her visit now. No longer could she enter a trance like dreamfasting with the remains of her mother’s vliya. “My younger sons are disturbed by the Garthim, as are many of our people. They grow bolder each trine, and I fear they may reach us before we are ready to leave.”

Laesid was not the only soul lost on this spot, and Naia found her thoughts wondering to skekSa next. Ever since Rian had divulged that a Skeksis and an urRu, working together, had created the weapon that once harnessed the power of the Crystal Shard, and that they had made it to help the Gelfling end Skeksis power, she had grown to doubt her treatment of skekSa. The Lady Mariner had once held Naia’s hands, guiding her in the healing of Tae, teaching her secrets of her vliyaya that even her mother had not known.

“UrSan still guards our ships from the water, but she will not leave with us. She says she must stay here, with you and her other half, until the Great Conjunction comes. I worry that the Garthim will capture her and imprison her in the Castle after we are gone. Leaving you behind. Leaving urSan. Leaving Smerth-staba. I’m not sure I’m ready for it.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


SkekSa, in spite of her tight confinement, was not deaf. She heard everything that Naia had to say, and it made her blood boil with rage. Long ago, when she had been free, she urged the Sifa to abandon the Skarith region, to sail out to sea with Vassa breaking the waves. SkekSa had thought she had a loyal companion in Vassa, the behemoth she’d raised for nine hundred trine, whose cavernous innards could be used as a ship. But Vassa had betrayed her, flooding herself with water in all the wrong places to ruin skekSa’s belongings and force her out. Before then she had also thought she had the loyalty and devotion of the Sifa Clan, those she had stalwartly protected from skekSo’s Gelfling harvests.

Betrayed, she was, by the entire Clan on the words of a handful of outsiders. Outsiders lead by Naia. Outsiders skekSa had embraced with hospitality, whose accusations she shrugged off, whose attempt to murder her in cold blood she attributed to one of skekSo’s crystal singers. A Gelfling she had cherished as one of her own, Tae, had cut off her dominant hand, had lost her her favorite sword. Even now, her _second_ favorite sword lie buried in the muck of Sog somewhere nearby. The severed hand still sat in a pouch at skekSa’s hip, as she’d yearned to have her past trust in the Gelfling validated, for one of their healers to restore her hand one day.

All of that pain and struggle, skekSa’s desperate return to skekSo’s service to recover some form of belonging, and the betrayal of skekZok to have her banished from the court. All of it was enragingly pointless. When the Gelflings made their stand against skekSo, all they had managed to do was bring death to both sides, especially their own, before deciding to run from it all. Their plan was insulting, because it was skekSa’s plan. They’d stolen it, pretended it was their own, and teased skekSa with the chance to rejoin them. Whenever she stopped to consider their words of peace, she was stabbed in the back by a swamp spear, the Gelflings punishing her for trusting them.

All skekSa had ever wanted was to be free of the collectivist culture of the urSkeks; to be her own person; to escape urSan and live her own life. The Gelfling wanted her to be part of a collective, too, it seemed. They had beseeched her to become their prisoner, to sail in chains alongside those bigoted against her, against her very species.

No. She refused. Her imprisonment in the tree had not stopped her from vampirically sucking down the vliya in it to sustain herself, and every day the Darkening weakened the trees of Sog. Now, with her prison flimsier than ever and her anger at its peak, the seafaring Lady of the Skeksis court burst free, splinters and branches buffeting Naia in skekSa’s explosive escape.

  
  


Twenty trine ago, skekSa had charged at Laesid with dagger drawn, and now she pounced upon Naia at the apex of that same movement, pinning the Maudra to the ground, her wings and cloak suffused with mud. One of her smaller, secondary hands clutched Naia’s neck with claws extended, her remaining primary hand holding the dagger to her throat. A flick of her thick, powerful tail uprooted what was left of the Laesid Tree, a plume of purple smoke from the Darkened tendril of Crystal beneath it rising to silhouette the grinning Skeksis. “Hello, dear.”

Just as Naia recovered her senses, skekSa gripped her right wrist with her free secondary hand, lifting Naia’s arm while her other limbs thrashed desperately. The other Gelfling weren’t ready for this, gasping in shock and staring in confusion, but skekSa had eyes only for Naia in that moment, hissing dangerously. “You’ve been a very bad girl.”

“You’re surrounded, skekSa. Don’t be foolish. The Skeksis will never be able to track us down at sea, so you may as well give up and leave with your life.”

SkekSa bristled, her tattered Mariner’s cloak lifted by her rising plumage and back-spikes. “That was my plan, you ungrateful bitch!” The roared admonishment echoed through the apeknot trees, giving every Gelfling pause and compelling Naia to be still and listen. “I wanted you all to leave in smaller groups, disappearing mysteriously from under skekSo’s snout, but what did you do? You challenged him. You drew forth the wrath of every Skeksis! Then, in your infinite stupidity, you gathered into two massive groups, easily tracked for extermination, immediately after showing skekSo that you would stop at nothing to end his reign. Good job, heroine.”

“How do you know all of this!?” Naia spat in anger, renewing her struggles, as useless against the strength of a Skeksis as it had ever been.

“Unlike you, I listen when someone speaks to me.” SkekSa smirked in pleasure when realization finally dawned on Naia’s otherwise dumbstruck face. Naia’s dreamfasts with the vliya in the tree had fed skekSa intimate information, information that could spell the doom of every Gelfling if skekSo ever received it. Of course, Naia assumed at once that skekSa would seek to bring that information to the Emperor, and resolved that her people would prevent it. “Something is changing within you.”

Naia cursed herself for being so easy to read, skekSa’s head tilting as she tried to decipher what Naia was thinking. Amri calling her name from nearby brought the truth crashing in like waves in a storm. Naia had her own children to protect now. She may not have had the nerve to let urSan die for skekSa’s mirrored death twenty trine ago, but times had changed. “Will you kill me, then, skekSa?” Naia asked coldly. “Have your revenge at last?”

“Death is too good for you.” SkekSa felt her heart pounding in her chest as she lifted Naia’s wrist in her grip, a moment she had visualized from within her prison for two decades finally becoming real. Her vicious teeth and firm beak pierced Naia’s tough Drenchen flesh, skekSa shaking her head as she bit harder, gradually ripping tendons and separating bones. Amri was stumbling on his way to them, the spears and bolas that guards were holding trembling in their hands. An injury to mirror her own and urSan’s was left for Naia, and to ensure that Naia’s stump would never be restored, skekSa chewed the Gelfling hand into bits and ate it.


	2. Mud Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A ship is freedom, and skekSa knows where to find one. All she must do is escape the entire Southern Clan to get to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my Patrons for making this possible.
> 
> High-Riders: Absolute Zero & Jcotton  
Fifth Degrees: Derik Harris & Extormus
> 
> My Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/Flapjaw

Naia squealed in anguish, the pained sound all the signal that her people needed to begin their attack. With the precision of a predator, skekSa tossed her dagger into a secondary hand and snatched the first thrown spear out of the air, the point inches from her face. “Sharpened stone,” she trilled curiously, amused by how crude and primitive the Gelfling weapons were. Much of their metal weapons were gifts from the Skeksis, and the knowledge to make any for themselves had also been gifted to them from the Skeksis. She wondered how many generations it would take for all of them to forget it.

SkekSa was unconcerned with the assault heading her way, her musings of ego and vengeance taking precedence, but that swiftly changed as she started to comprehend the sheer numbers arrayed against her. For every spear she smashed with her arms and bola she tossed back or aside with her expert hands there seemed to be two more to take its place. Her tattered cloak and ancient layered robes beneath protected her well from what she failed to deflect, but the impacts caused her sap-rusted metal plates beneath to chafe at her scaly skin and vibrant feathers. It was more irritating than anything else, but irritating enough that she was forced back all the same.

A blue glow drew her gaze down, where she saw Naia had stopped the bleeding of her new stump, placing her remaining hand to the soil of Thra with her vliyaya still blazing strongly. “No, my friends! She is too dangerous to fight! Beseech Thra with me again! Call upon the trees as we--” skekSa had heard this one before. She interrupted the self-entitled monologue by kicking Naia square in the face with her taloned foot, scratching her face and punting her into the air. The little Maudra spun in the air at the behest of Skeksis strength, all eyes on her thin fae wings as they totally failed to slow or stabilize her. Then she slammed hard into an apeknot branch, inverting her spin until she stopped with a crash into the gnarled roots.

SkekSa cackled happily, wishing she had a bottle of nectarwine to go with the show. “Come and get me, wankers!” Amri made to do just that, leading a charge of Gelfling from every clan with his sword drawn. It wasn’t the one he’d used on her before, but it was similar, being of Vapran design. SkekSa knew she should be saving her few remaining thunder-eggs, but it was just too tempting when they bunched up like that. With a disdainful toss she watched them scattered under a cloud of smoke and shrapnel, Amri leaping as far as he could to avoid the brunt of the explosion. While those who survived fumbled for their lost swords, skekSa tossed the spear she held into a familiar spot, watching it sink into the mud at an angle.

SkekSa spun and deftly slapped the spear with her tail, causing her sword to be propelled from the mud where it had fallen so long ago. She completed her spin and snatched the blade from the air, giving it an intimidating flourish as she did, flinging more mud from the rusted metal. In spite of the enchantment of resilience on the metal, it had suffered from its long exposure, but it was still sturdy, and it was hers. Using it as an extension of her body, she deflected yet more attacks from range, even as those Gelfling strong of wing flew above and all around her.

At that moment they began to hesitate again, many of them too young to have ever fought a Skeksis, and she cut a much more impressive posture than the Garthim they fought, or even her fellow Skeksis that the older warriors had battled only once. This lull in the resolve of the collective didn’t seem to effect Amri, who flung the mud from his own sword before charging at skekSa again. “You won’t touch her again, you--” The moment their swords locked, Amri had no more room for words, all of his focus on staying alive. SkekSa battered his defenses with rapid and powerful strikes until she saw his arms wavering, exploiting his weakness with a quick flourish that caught his sword’s hilt and sent the weapon spinning from his hands.

The memories that Naia had inadvertently shared with skekSa had tormented her with the wifely love Naia felt for him, and the truth of the moment when he’d nearly killed skekSa in cold blood. The vision returned to her, guiding Naia’s hands to heal Tae, giving gentle advice to the young princess, asking Amri where the needed herb water was. When she saw his blade an inch from her throat she’d thought he was brave, strong enough to resist the crystal singer in his neck, but Naia had shown her the truth through the tree. That spider had not been one of skekSo’s servants, but a Gelfling princess in a new body. Amri had not saved her. He’d been the one to swing the blade. He’d tried to kill her while she was healing one of his people.

SkekSa didn’t bother to savor his stupefied expression when his sword was lost, giving him no chance to recover. She cleanly cut Amri’s head from his shoulders, the simple motion freeing her of a tension she couldn’t describe. When his body slumped over, dead in the mud, she breathed more easily than she had in two decades.

  
  


The remaining Gelfling obviously didn’t appreciate the catharsis of her just revenge, as their females started circling like angry wasps, the males charging through the mud or swinging from the trees. “Time to go, I think.” The lone Skeksis spun on her heels and sprinted through the mire further South, her tail thrashing beneath her coat to maintain her balance at such high speeds. The Gelflings sped up in a desperate bid to follow and kill her, sending animal calls through the swamp as if begging nature itself to assist in their hunt.

The worst part was that their calls were answered, and skekSa had to dodge snapping lizards, finger-vines, and groaning branches as she went, slicing the face of an agitated nebrie to keep it from her path. She felt bolas pelting her back, the rope-lengths short enough to fit through the apeknot trees, and therefore far too short to entangle someone as large as herself. The impacts did awaken phantom pains from where Laesid had speared her so long ago, Laesid’s own vliya having healed the wound itself long ago. If the Gelflings expected that to slow her, then they were sorely mistaken.

The fliers were having trouble weaving through the apeknot trees, and skekSa managed to pull ahead of them. On and on she ran, grinning from her success, but the swamp continued. The further she sprinted, the deeper the muck, and the more moss and shrubs she had to push through. As the terrain became more daunting she found herself pestered by angry insects and small animals, using her tail and sword to wave them off as quickly as she could. “_Mahh Fesst!_” she cursed in her own language, crushing a flying bug with three stingers and smashing a crawlie on the branch it dangled down from.

The Gelfling shouts were drawing closer again, but skekSa finally breached a border of more tightly packed trees, following the path of a supply line down a muddy beach to the Southern coast of the Skarith region. The joyous sight of the sea filled her legs with new energy, and she careened down to the shore at great speed, eyeing up the three boats the Gelflings had built.

She grumbled at their lack of ambition. Clearly, they were mostly focused on building enough ships to leave as quickly as possible, none of the three standing out from the others in any meaningful way. SkekSa went for the one that seemed like it wasn’t being stocked, assuming from what Naia had dreamfasted to the tree that it was already fully stocked with preserved foods and other traveling supplies. Two more thunder-eggs were loosed, one to each of the other ships, blowing gaping holes in their hulls, and leaving skekSa with only one more thunder-egg to spare.

She dug her talons into the mud at the shore, pushing the modestly sized ship out to the embrace of the sea on her own, her muscles tingling from the effort. She cut the mooring lines with her blades and then clambered up with the large fishing net that dangled beneath the rigging, collapsing onto the deck. She didn’t have a proper crew and the majority of her possessions, gathered over centuries of adventure, were lost to a different ocean, but she’d made it. She was free of the wretched swamp, free of the Drenchen twins whom skekSo sought, free of skekSo’s court, and free of the Gelfling.

“Ahahaha! Yes!” SkekSa clambered to her feet as she heard a distant ruckus, stumbling up to the helm with excitement and staring back at the shore of dejected Gelflings, those able to fly hesitating to attack without the support of the swamp or their grounded kin. She waved with sarcastic cheer at the lot of them, shouting back. “Farewell, my dears! May you always remember this day as the day that you almost--”

SkekSa spun around when she heard a gasp behind her, a male Gelfling mutt with both Grottan and Drenchen features staring at her in wonder and fear. “Captain skekSa, the Mariner.” He muttered, dropping to his knees when she pointed her sword in his direction.

She squinted at him and tilted her head, something particularly familiar about him. Then it clicked into place, the visions she’d seen from Naia making his identity exceedingly obvious, but she decided to play dumb and see how long he would try to deceive her, should that be his intent. “And who is the Gelfling who mans a ship alone, as if waiting for a moment like this one?”

He shivered, as if thinking he’d be doomed if she found out who he really was, but not finding a reason why she would know his name, and so speaking it true. “Lanar. Lanar is my name.”

“That isn’t what I asked you. Names mean nothing, sweetie.” It was strange how unnerved and surprised he seemed by her gentle, almost nurturing tone. When she had resided with the Sifa, before Naia came, they had all trusted and adored her. Unfortunately for her, times had changed, and she’d need threats to get results. “It is lucky for you that I need an assistant. We have sailing to do. If you wish to keep your life, then you’ll help by lowering those sails. I assume you have some skill in that area.”

“Yes, Captain.” It seemed that he was a respectful lad, if a terrible liar. A part of her wanted to toss him overboard, to rid herself of the last remnant of Gelfling presence before the others noticed and decided to rescue her little hostage. Then again, she could have a lot more fun with a little trouble and someone to talk to. She playfully cursed herself in Skexish, smiling as Lanar got right to work. Perhaps the Gelflings on the shore would see him well enough to know he was one of their own. Either way, they would surely find that the prince was missing after regrouping, and when their ships were repaired then they’d be on her trail.

“Well, this is exciting, isn’t it?” She mused, watching distance transform the Gelflings on the shore from individuals to a blob of irritated collective motion. “No one has ever been out here before, you know. At least, no one from the Skarith region. I wonder what we’ll find.” She felt an all-to-familiar rush over her skin as they picked up speed, evidence that urSan was swimming. Of course the urRu would follow her counterpart, seeking to bring her back to the Crystal to face the Great Conjunction someday soon. That dedication was mildly endearing, but skekSa just knew she’d have to prevent the inquisitive soul from getting herself killed in the unknown waters.

Though Lanar’s skillful climbing reminded skekSa of Amri, she didn’t resent him for it. That weight had already been lifted from her shoulders. “You think we can do the work of an entire crew between the two of us, Lanar?”

He looked back as if startled by her casual question, unsure how to respond to her small talk. After a moment and a bit of stuttering he managed a strained smile and let out a wavering joke. “Well, we do have six arms between us.”

“Not true,” she bit back playfully, enjoying herself immensely already. “At least, not yet. One of mine is out of commission. It’ll stay that way, unless you know healing vliyaya.” She very well knew that he did know it, but kept up her ignorant act, forcing the expression she’d worn easily in the presence of the Sifa decades prior. It was an expression of mutual trust and respect, tainted only by the layers of deception between them.

“I can’t restore your hand,” he said, looking to her wrapped stump. She sighed, as if disappointed in him, but he continued. “Not if it’s completely gone like that. Maybe if you still had it with you, but I’ve never had to heal something this severe before.” SkekSa smirked at him, sheathing her blade as she stepped closer. She then pulled her own severed hand from her pouch and gestured toward the cabin beneath the helm. “You… You have your hand,” Lanar stuttered back.

“Yes. Yes I do. Very observant.” SkekSa studied his layered leather armor, certain he could be hiding all manner of small weapons in the pouches and pack that he had strapped to himself. It would be dangerous to get into a confined space with him, but if she showed no fear then it would only reinforce how intimidated he clearly was. Perhaps that would be an advantage worth the risk. “Come then, Lanar. This will not be the first time I’ve had to teach a Gelfling how to use their own vliyaya.”

The boy hesitated, his hands twitching as he stood there, staring into her eyes. It was as if he was searching for something, and perhaps he found it, because he nodded calmly afterward. He stepped forward, skekSa humming in approval. She opened the cabin door for him and gestured inside with a flourishing bow. “Healers first, my dear.” She was going to have fun with this one.


	3. First Mate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something once lost is renewed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my Patrons for making this possible.
> 
> High-Riders: Absolute Zero & Jcotton  
Fifth Degrees: Derik Harris & Extormus
> 
> My Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/Flapjaw

When skekSa followed Lanar into the Captain’s cabin, a sense of belonging shot through her that she hadn’t felt in a good long while. Her snout-rings clinked while she took a deep breath, savoring the moment. She pulled her tail forward to let the door close with a quiet click, letting her breath back out and patting the hilt of her sword. The table in the cabin was round and none of the three seats were more extravagant than any other, a bore she could attribute to Gelfling sensibilities, but she could also blame the Gelfling for the gorgeous colored glass windows all along the back-wall. Large woven baskets held traveling supplies, which was a sign that below-deck was even more stuffed with them.

The Mariner flippantly dropped her severed hand onto the table before turning her attention back to the cabin itself. “Well, at least we won’t go hungry.” She said, motioning to the supplies.

“I should hope not.” Lanar replied, taking a seat. “This ship was stocked to feed three dozen Gelflings for four unum.”

“Hmm.” SkekSa squinted at him then, curling her clawed toes into the third seat before kicking it away with a precise motion. It wobbled into a basket and then landed on its legs, still steady. “Interesting.” She stabilized the empty chair still at the table with her secondary hands, focused her senses, and then punched off an armrest with a snarl, leaving splintered stumps behind. Lanar jolted uncomfortably at the sudden noise, but seemed more composed when she repeated the action to remove the remaining armrest. The Gelfling-sized seat would still be far too small to be comfortable for her, but at least her hips wouldn’t be caught before she could sit this way.

“Now, to business.” She twisted her tail away from the backrest and started to unwrap her stump, her knees almost touching the bottom of the table from her awkward position.

“Are you sure? You don’t look very comfortable.” The Skeksis shot him a sharp look, as if to ask why he even cared, but he just smiled nervously and gestured to the chair she’d discarded. “Maybe if we put two chairs together it would help.”

“To account for my fat arse, you mean?” She’d meant it as a joke, but he just nodded, his smile growing.

“And your tail.” She blinked and pulled her head back, surprised. “It could fit between the two backrests, so you can sit straight instead of turning to the side like that.” SkekSa didn’t have an argument against any of that, so she numbly stood back and watched him shove the two chairs next to each other at the table. He observed how they looked together and then nodded to himself, pointing at the armrest of the last chair next to the one skekSa had already broken. “Could you repeat your trick on just that armrest, please?”

“Aye,” she replied, gripping the chair firmly. “It’s a matter of applying enough force to just the right spot.” Showing off for an excited young Gelfling was all too familiar to skekSa, and her chest filled with the warmth of nostalgia as she broke off the offensive armrest with a satisfied snarl, chuckling to herself as she tossed it aside.

“Wow.” Lanar caught himself staring and shook his head, rushing around to the other side of the two chairs, now standing under skekSa’s shadow. She resisted the urge to laugh, simply smiling instead. He lifted the armrest from the edge of the first seat back into position, his other hand glowing with blue flames that did not burn him, his vliyaya. “The Spriton elders taught me how to mend objects. It’s closely related to dream-etching.” Gripping the two points of breakage one at a time, Lanar mended the wood back together. Then he moved to the place where the two chairs were pressed together, lining them up precisely and using the mending technique to connect them. Finally, he smoothed down the jagged breaches of the removed armrests, panting with effort when he was done, stepping back to admire his handiwork.

He realized in the next moment that his thoughtless back-step had almost taken him between skekSa’s legs, her breaths close enough to ruffle his hair. He smelled her scent when she exhaled, and the odor of tree-sap on her coat. Before he thought to move, she gently placed a hand on his back, and he looked up to see her smiling down at him. “That was quite kind, Lanar. Thank you.”

“It was nothing.” He replied, fidgeting his fingers together.

“Indeed it was, compared to what you’ll do for me next, but I appreciate both all the same. Please, return to your seat.” SkekSa guided him around the table, watching him clamber into his chair with a pleasant hum on her lips. It was always something she admired about Gelflings, that they could be so heavily invested in the present moment. In spite of how he’d ended up stuck with her, Lanar seemed perfectly willing to go along with her direction while they were in the cabin together, and he’d even shown an active interest in making her more comfortable.

She decided that it would do no harm to return his trust. Afterall, she would need to let him perform his mending on her very flesh, and the potential benefit should they succeed was certainly worth the risk. She was always a gambler, and though she wanted to be more cautious this time after so many betrayals, she just couldn’t help herself after waiting so long to get back into the world and out of that tree.

“We’ll have to wait awhile now.” She said simply, her mind made up. Her coat fluttered when she stepped briskly to the opposite wall in a swift stride, digging into a basket to grasp one of the bottles inside. She pulled it free and shook it to listen to the sloshing of the nectarwine, stepping back to the table and dropping down heavily into her new double-chair. Her tail fell comfortably into its place as Lanar had planned, and she sighed with relief, finally able to relax. Trusting that her new companion wouldn’t try to harm her with whatever weapons he might be hiding, she pulled the cork from the bottle with a secondary hand and took a swig.

“Why are we waiting, uhm...” Lanar seemed to struggle with his words for a moment, fidgeting in his seat. “Captain? SkekSa?” He was struggling, clearly. To skekSa, he had the appearance of someone who had stumbled into a great figure from childhood stories, only just coming to discern that he wasn’t meeting her in a mere dream. It was gratifying to her that he was already shedding the trappings of fearfulness. “I’m sorry, I’m just not sure how to address you.”

“Nectarwine?” She asked, presenting it to him. He glanced at it, then back to her, his gaze mildly confused, and then he slowly shook his head. She shrugged and took another swig before addressing what he’d said. “You’ll be my First Mate out here. It’s an important job, and when there’s trouble or interlopers then you should always be very formal. ‘Captain’ will do then. ‘Lady Mariner’ if you’re feeling fancy. In moments like this, ‘skekSa’ will be just fine. Better than fine, really. It’s been too long since I’ve had good, polite company like you, Lanar.” His face didn’t give away much, but she did see him look out the windows rather than at his lap. She wondered how long it might take for him to just accept her compliments.

“As for why we are waiting,” she continued, placing the bottle on the table next to her hand and the wrapping that had been on her stump. “You tired yourself out making me this helpful gift. You must be used to hiding your exertion from your teachers to impress them, but it won’t work on me. You need to recover before you can put my hand back on.” Lanar tapped his fingers on the table guiltily, not able to take his gaze away from the windows and the distant, distorted sight of the shore. “Aren’t you proud of your work? Your skill?”

“What good is it now?” When he realized what he’d just said he did return his gaze to skekSa, worried over her response. She was sure she’d kept her calm demeanor, but he rushed to apologize all the more quickly because of it. “I’m sorry. I know I can help you, I just...” He trailed off, fidgeting his fingers again and shaking his head. “The stories do not do you justice.” SkekSa raised her brows and her head in surprise and interest, Lanar’s voice gaining strength as he forged on. “Always the songs dive into despair at your name or title, telling of the terror you brought to my… to my Clan.” SkekSa knew he had almost mentioned his family in particular instead, but remained silent.

“There was a notion of tragedy repeated in the notes. Something brought forth sympathy for the heroes of the tales. They are said to have sought your friendship, against their better judgment. It is said that they so wished that they could trust you, but that you proved in short order to be just as savage and unpredictable as your kin.” Lanar gulped, looking down and inward, searching old feelings for songs sung to him when he was but a childling. “I don’t know why most of the others couldn’t do it, but I could hear the literal events behind the emotional delivery. I almost wanted to believe, just from what my own people said, that you weren’t quite so terrible, but that isn’t quite right either.”

He looked up at her again, and the tension left his body. He just smiled, and spoke from his heart. “I was wrong. You aren’t at all terrible. You have been kind, and patient, though every bit as strong as the stories say, and far more beautiful.” SkekSa felt as if her heart had been stung, remembering the Gelflings of the past who had made similar confessions of admiration; remembering Tae, whom always complimented her feathers, who had later cut off her hand. She didn’t let it show on her face. It wasn’t Lanar’s fault, afterall. “I wish you had been our Maudra. All the Maudra of my clan ever did was bicker with each other about heirs and tradition.”

“Now now, don’t be too harsh on them.” SkekSa offered the nectarwine again, and this time Lanar took it. “Traitorous backstabbers they may be, but they were under a lot of pressure from the Emperor and his bloodlust. War changes people.” Lanar coughed violently when the nectarwine touched his tongue, hacking into his arm while shakily handing the bottle off to skekSa again. “Careful. It’s perfectly aged and quite potent.” In lieu of trying to speak around his sudden hacking fit, Lanar just raised his thumb to her in affirmation. “I suppose I should be fair to old skekSo. His obsession with immortality caused many problems, but Naia was the one to spark rebellion, and Rian declared the war first.”

Lanar admirably kept any reaction to his mother’s name internal, and so the facade of his deception continued, skekSa having plenty of room to pretend ignorance longer. He cleared his throat and replied to her with a simple hand gesture, as if waving away his embarrassing brush with alcohol. “So the songs are lies? The Gelflings started the war?”

SkekSa smiled and nodded, reminiscing about how skekSil would employ partial truths to manipulate his targets. She had a knack for it herself, if not quite on his level of guile, but it hardly seemed necessary anymore. Afterall, the whole truth was damning enough. “I wanted your people to escape skekSo’s grasp peacefully, so I understand why it was done. I sympathize with the cause, but had a more practical plan. Even now your people do as I once proposed, while ignoring that the idea came from me. Sailing away to new lands out of skekSo’s reach.” She chuckled and shook her head, looking down at her stump. “Now, the idiotic decision to confront and anger the Lords of the Castle before fleeing in only two directions? That was an amendment to the plan that I would never have endorsed. The Maudra should have known better, but their passion overtook their reason.”

Amongst the Maudra was Lanar’s mother, and skekSa should have been glad that he saw no reason to defend her, but it just made her sad for him. “Gelfling blood was sacrificed for a pointless conflict. Many Gelflings died, and three Skeksis, too.”

Lanar looked up, stunned by that revelation. “The songs say that Gelflings only fought in defense. That the harm brought to Skeksis was also brought to urRu, our friends.”

“The last is true, but the first is not.” SkekSa took several gulps of her nectarwine, her eyes screwed shut and her earrings gently swayed while she leaned her head further back. When she finally set the bottle back down, it was almost empty. “The dreamfasts given to me in my prison were meant to torment me. Do you want to know what I saw?” Lanar gulped, but slowly nodded, a grim expression taking over his features. “I saw an urRu die to end the Hunter, the most formidable of the Lords in combat, too dangerous to be fought fairly. I saw the mighty General stumble away from Rian’s blade, seeking to die in shadow to avoid his shame. I saw the evil of skekSo’s cruel magic strike Gelflings from the sky, and I witnessed one Grottan grip and reverse it with a vliyaya I’ve never seen before nor since. With skekSo’s dark power, she shattered my sister into gory chunks without remorse.”

Lanar shuddered at the telling, for he had seen clues in his mother’s demeanor, and in the whisperings of older warriors, that made skekSa’s story easy to believe. “My friend, the Swimmer. Is she alright?”

SkekSa smirked and nodded, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “Oh yes. Even now, urSan the Swimmer is beneath our ship. She knows that she would be killed by Naia in an instant if it meant getting one of her own back faster. There is no compassion left in her heart for that which is not Gelfling.”

Lanar huffed and shook his head firmly. “You overestimate the value the Maudra places on me. I am just a boy, afterall.”

“Yes,” skekSa replied quickly. “And quite a handsome one at that, for a _Kelffink_.” Something he’d said earlier was starting to make everything seem so clear, and she slid the nectarwine across the table to him, daring him to finish what little was left. “This mutual friend of ours, has she been missing a hand since you first met her?” Lanar glanced back at skekSa’s stump, and he gasped in understanding.

“I thought the connection was more tenuous than that. That the songs were merely illustrative of a more complicated truth with such a simple idea.”

“The very worst things in life are quite simple, dear. The songs were literal in this respect.” Lanar had trusted her rather quickly, and she had suspected that his fascination with stories about her had contributed to this. She may have been right about that, but there was no denying that his knowing the Swimmer would endear him to the Mariner by default. They were distorted mirrors of one another, and, even if he didn’t understand it consciously, Lanar could see something familiar in skekSa’s face.

Lanar took the nectarwine and gulped it down, screwing his eyes shut as he did. After a moment spent composing himself, he placed the empty bottle back on the table, looking almost dignified in the process. “So, if we reattach your hand, do you think urSan will get hers back too?” Lanar seemed perfectly willing to help her regardless, merely asking out of curiosity.

“I’d like to think so. Otherwise, my hand might just fall off again.” SkekSa drew her dagger and casually held it near her stump, studying Lanar’s expression. “Are you ready?”

Lanar’s hands lit with his vliyaya again, and he nodded. “As ready as I can be, I think.”

“Aye. That’s because I haven’t taught you anything new yet.”

Almost an hour was spent with their chairs brought close together and Lanar’s hands on skekSa’s flesh and his mind focused on the anatomy there. One of her secondary hands guided his touch, and her gentle voice guided him in probing deeper than skin, whilst she pointed at places of interest with the tip of her knife. She explained to him the purpose of everything he felt within her wrist, from nerves and arteries to the tendons and muscles. She elaborated about the quality of dead, but preserved flesh, so he could determine where everything was in her hand, considering how different it felt when separated from skekSa’s beating heart. “No mental games,” she had said. “I will instruct, but you are smart enough to do this yourself.”

It seemed to Lanar that she had something against dreamfasting, though he wasn’t sure why. He didn’t press the issue, and soon the moment of truth had arrived. “I can do this.”

“Here we go, then.” SkekSa stabbed her dagger into her own wrist, snarling in pain. If she had something to bite on, she wouldn’t be able to speak, so Lanar would just have to focus in spite of her pained sounds. She bared her sharp teeth and worked away at her stump until it was cleanly sliced open, just as when it had first been cut by Tae’s sword. “Aaaarrr… Rem-remember. Nerves last or it’ll twitch everywhere.”

“Y-yes, I know. Arteries first.” Lanar felt like he was in a trance, his consciousness teetering into sensations he barely understood, skekSa’s snarls echoing in his skull all the while. The energy he needed to push into the arteries and tendons to make them reconnect was so much that he felt lightheaded, as if he could collapse at any moment.

“Good! Good.” Her voice drew him back, and he saw her blood spreading to the edge of the table, her arm still held perfectly still for him. He risked a glance at her panting face, seeing tears staining her cheeks. “Muscles, skin, then nerve.”

He shook off his fatigue and pressed on, groaning in effort. The cabin was filled with wet noises, air being pushed out before more flesh was mended together, skekSa’s tail thrashing behind her chair. “Almost… got it...” His sweat dripped into the blood, which began to stream off the table into his lap. Then, he reattached her nerve stem.

SkekSa screamed and bashed the table repeatedly with her opposite fist, her plumage quivering madly. She was suddenly flooded with the feeling of a necrotic hand being connected with her nervous system, agony radiating from the spot. There was a distant sensation of shifting water, as if urSan was thrashing about in confusion somewhere in the sea.

She had presided over procedures just as dangerous and difficult before, but this was her first time being both doctor and patient for such an injury. She didn’t have the luxury of an anesthetic. “We have- we have to- to liven it back up now, o-okay?” Lanar just nodded, allowing her to guide his hands. “Push the energy- Nnnngg… push around the knuckles, and up through the f-fingers. Nice and even.” It couldn’t have taken more than a few minutes, but time seemed to stretch on and on as they worked, until finally her fingers twitched and the pain dulled significantly, her sigh signaling Lanar to collapse back into his chair.

SkekSa cradled her newly healed wrist against her chest, massaging the skin. Drool was strung from between her teeth and her vision was unfocused, her debilitated condition just another in a long line of indignities she’d had to suffer, but she couldn’t care less. Her body was whole again, and her glory would likewise be restored in time. “Thank ye, matey,” she drawled, wiping spit onto the sleeves of her tattered and ruined coat. “Take yourself a nap, now, sweetie. You’ll need it.” Lanar probably wasn’t even listening, already sprawled against the backrest of his chair, his eyes fluttering shut with exhaustion.

She huffed quietly and considered her options. After giving her hand a few more minutes to recover, she scooped Lanar up and carried him out of the cabin, holding him beneath her chest. He stirred deliriously, but must not have been cognizant enough to form words, clinging to her robes as she brought him below the top deck. The simple, two-mast ship lacked a forecastle, and had only one enclosed deck aside from the cargo hold at the bottom, but the crew deck was itself stuffed with supplies as well. SkekSa sniffed the air in mild interest until she found a cot that looked comfortable enough, and she set him down in it, pulling the weaved travel blanket there up to his neck and patting it down around him.

Back at the helm she stood, watching the brother suns set, one at a time. As their light left her, the gentle embrace of the sister moons came to replace it. “Swim on, urSan,” she pleaded quietly, letting her gaze fall to the sea. “We aren’t safe yet.” Even though she thought her connection to urSan had played a part in Lanar trusting her so quickly, she almost wished it wasn’t so. She thought back to the compliments he’d given her in the cabin, remembered that once, Gelflings had adored her without ever meeting urSan. In spite of everything that had happened to ruin it last time, could she not hope to feel that again?

SkekSa looked down at herself and her tattered attire, shaking her head at herself. “This is no way for a lady Skeksis to garb herself.” She pushed her ruined coat off her shoulders and bundled it up, moving down to the crew deck to search for some Gelfling trinkets. With any luck, there would be something onboard with which she could sew together something new.

Something new would be delightful.


	4. Dangerous Waters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SkekSa's lack of shame provides Lanar with a new distraction, before she teaches him another vital skill for their ongoing journey into the unknown.

Naia tried to appear as if she was ignoring her vliyaya healed stump as she gazed out over the open ocean and the Gelflings all toiling away at the damaged ships, but the taking of her hand was very prominent in her mind. She could not help thinking about it, how skekSa’s teeth had sunk into her flesh, for her eldest son was out there with the Lady Skeksis. His younger brothers were at the edge of the coast with the other workers, anxious to help in any way their young hands could. Naia thought, and she planned, as a Maudra should.

Yet, she was not alone in doing so. Mera and her daughter were also standing near, and Mera kept glancing disdainfully at Naia’s stump. “An example must be made of her,” she said, grimacing. “Attacking us within our innermost border? Harming a Maudra? It is unforgivable.”

“UrSan does not deserve to die.” In spite of what happened to her husband, Naia was firm in this belief, but she could not shake the truth from her mind.

Mera shook her head. “UrSan has always been more concerned with that damned Skeksis than with any of us. That is why she disappeared. Do you really think she is out there to rescue your little lad all on her own?”

“Yes!” Naia was losing her patience, but fought to hold her composure, mindful that the future Maudra, Mera’s eldest daughter, was listening closely to all they said. “UrSan has defended us from skekSa before. She will help us.”

“Yes, she will, if we catch her. She offered her life so skekSa’s might end once before, if your stories are accurate. If we catch urSan and kill her, skekSa will die, and your son will be safe.” They both paused, Mera knowing that Naia wanted to refute this plan, and also knowing that she would not, that she could not, and why. “Forgive me for saying this, Naia, but it’s even more important that her information never reach the other Skeksis. Regardless of what happens to your son, she must die.”

“I would feel more comfortable with killing skekSa directly, but you are right. No matter which of them we kill, the result will be the same. UrSan will have to die. There is no other way.”

* * *

Lanar sat up in his cot after his waking for several minutes, contemplating his circumstances. The previous morning, skekSa had been a mythical figure of many fascinating stories, told to him by his mother, who always managed to inject some of her own regret into the tellings. Though he had known logically that these stories must be true, only now did he know this in a deeper way, in an emotional way. Now, he had felt skekSa’s blood on his hands, and had seen great pain in her face. She’d guided him with gentle words and a soft touch, teaching him more about anatomy than he’d learned in his entire life beforehand. She was real, and she was incredible.

Making up his mind about how to proceed, Lanar slid out of the cot and made his way out of the crew quarters, but all his musing had done nothing to prepare him for what he saw.

There under the glare of the suns, illuminated starkly by their light, was skekSa. Not skekSa’s robes about her body, but _skekSa_, fully nude. It had been drilled into Lanar that females were not to be ogled while nude without explicitly given permission, but that tradition of his people did not hold enough sway to stop him from taking in the sight of The Mariner. His gaze fixated first on her vibrant feathers, longest at her back and flared out at her neck. There was a patch of black feathers accented by long frills between her shoulders in a diamond shape, with its lowest point stretching further than the others, stopping just above her tail. Around these were dark blue feathers, which grew lighter further out, from a navy blue to the shimmering cobalt at her face and on the _curves_ below her hips.

He watched her sleek tail sway, the skin smooth and blue-gray, and then his gaze centered again while it was lifted, and he felt heat rising in his cheeks. She turned, adjusting a telescope in front of her right eye, exposing her front to him. Gelflings only had two of the six mammaries he saw on her, and they weren’t so round and full either. A click of her toe brought his gaze lower, to her smooth legs, framed by more feathers at the outer edges. He followed her shifting stance, taking in how muscular her legs were, and how round her thighs. He found himself stepping dumbly forward, studying her arms next, all four of them intimidatingly muscular. Yet, her smooth and healthy skin made them somehow inviting too, save for the scar on one wrist where her hand had been reattached. The closer he came, the more her immense height came into stark focus, and the details of her body, how her skin showed its age in places, but not nearly so dramatically as he had expected from the songs. Her brilliant ruby eyes shown with eagerness and joy for life when she looked down at him, a crown of golden light on her feathers from the sun directly eclipsed by her head.

“Good morning, sweetie.” Lanar had expected some admonishment for his staring once she saw what he was doing, but she either didn’t notice or didn’t mind at all. In fact, her smirk made him almost certain it was the latter.

“Good morning, skekSa.” He didn’t have the nerve yet to say what he was thinking, wondering if he was merely dreaming. If it was a dream, it had only just begun.

She squatted down to be at his level, or as close to it as she could manage, and threw an arm around his shoulders, bringing him against her side and into the warmth of her feathers, gesturing out to the sea and holding the telescope up for him. “I wonder, do you know why we aren’t stopping there for some supplies?” Since she didn’t seem at all bothered by her own lack of dress, Lanar did his best to humor that sentiment, taking the telescope and focusing in on what she was pointing at.

In the distance, though not too far off, was an abysmally small island, only large enough to support a small patch of sand and one fruit-bearing tree. The orange fruits did look plump and ripe for the taking, though Lanar had never seen their like before. “I would think it’s because we have more than enough food, and stopping there would be a waste of time?” He didn’t really believe it as he said it, but he couldn’t fathom any other reason, and it was difficult to think with skekSa on his mind anyway. He took another sideways glance at her, her breasts inches from his face.

“Not so.” He was looking up into her smiling face again, noticing she seemed mildly confused about something. Clearly it wasn’t what she was so confidently speaking about, but he didn’t have time to consider it further. “Do you know how to project spirit lights?”

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“That’s alright. I’ll teach you. Arm out.” She gently took his left arm into her grip, running her fingers over his sleeve to his wrist, ensuring his arm was perfectly straight. “Palm open, eyes shut.” He did as she instructed, fighting to keep his breathing normal. Perhaps she didn’t realize what all this physical intimacy was doing to him, but he couldn’t disrespect her by losing focus on her lesson either way. “Now, focus your mind on the most beautiful and vibrant thing you can think of. Most Gelflings use the brightest of the three suns.” He didn’t. Lanar was thinking of her. “Let the mental image fill your mind, concentrate it into the flow of your vliyaya, and then push it out from your palm.”

Lanar opened his eyes and gulped, suddenly quite nervous. “I’m not sure I can do this. It was mostly the girls who made spirit lights back home.”

“Nonsense. The Great Mage Lanar, who revived a dead hand for me on his first try, not able to make a simple spirit light?” She ruffled his hair teasingly, showing off sharp teeth with a broad smile. “I don’t believe it. Closing your eyes is good practice for focusing on the image, and it cuts out distractions. If you really need to then you can stare at whichever sun you fancy, but not for too long, matey. The light could damage your eyes.”

Lanar stared right into her eyes for several seconds, and then an orb of light coalesced at his palm, floating down into the water. Most such lights resembled a miniature sun, though each could be unique depending on what the Gelfling in question considered to be bright and beautiful. When skekSa looked to follow Lanar’s light, she could see that it glowed with the red of her eyes and the blue of her feathers.

  
  


SkekSa stood fully, giving Lanar a firm pat on the back to hide her sniffle. Words could be exaggerated, but a spirit light was irrefutable evidence. His light, one that shown for her, was much like the Sifan lights from ages past, when she was younger and her skin more vibrant. “Well done, Lanar. Now the danger is revealed. Look where the roots of the tree lead.” Lanar’s hands shook as he took in the sight of the monstrosity below the gentle waves, a massive beast with sharp teeth and languid eyes floating patiently below. The sand of the island wasn’t sand at all, but fine scales shimmering in the sunlight. The tree was made of some hardened chitin that mimicked bark, its fruits grown to entice prey into easy biting distance.

“I’ll not have you risking your life for something we don’t need, even if a Gelfling is usually light enough not to attract the attention of such a predator. As for me, I’d be noticed at once.” Lanar nodded numbly, understanding the danger all too well. “Climb into the crow’s nest and search for more. The last thing we need is to sail into a territorial dispute between two of those monsters. Once we’re out of these dangerous waters then we’ll worry about my ruined robes. Besides, urSan is following us below, and we wouldn’t want to lead her into the jaws of those things.”

While skekSa was stepping back toward the wheel, Lanar began to climb the mast, letting his spirit light die out to preserve his energy and to let the monstrous sea creature fade from his view. He turned to skekSa before he finished climbing, taking another moment to admire her physique, before stuttering out a question to justify his staring when she was in position and looking back at him. “W-w-would urSan ever join us on the ship? Surely it’s safer up here.”

“I really can’t say, Lanar. Her people are endlessly enigmatic, and she in particular is even moreso. Now, up you get, matey. If we’re lucky, you’ll see more than trouble from up there.”


	5. The Great Blue

Lanar spent several hours in the crow’s nest, guiding skekSa’s course through the super-predators, ensuring the safety of urSan and the ship. After a full two hours of seeing no more of them, however, he was asked to come down and assist her with another task. SkekSa had an array of boards and bowls made of wood that she had cracked and splintered into pieces of various shapes and sizes. She had Lanar mend the disparate pieces together into a completely new form with his vliyaya, a sewing needle being attached to a long and sharp piece taken from a barrel’s lid.

To Lanar’s surprise and wonder, the array of melded pieces started moving when skekSa turned a piece on the side with one of her four hands, two others handling clothes from the supplies and the last holding a bottle of nectarwine. “It’s a manual sewing machine,” she had explained, though that made very little sense to Lanar. Though he had helped to create it, Lanar didn’t understand the complexities of the simple machine. SkekSa blamed this on his upbringing and dismissed him back to the crow’s nest for a few more hours, giving him time to ruminate on her words.

He determined to ask her to elaborate on her assessment of his childhood later, considering at length the ways in which a Skeksis might have a unique perspective on Gelfling ways. Despite his burning curiosity, Lanar took his job very seriously, saving his words for another time. Even when he was relieved to get some much-needed sleep, he reasoned to wait further, as The Mariner looked to be a little out of sorts when she took his place in the crow’s nest.

When he laid down to rest in the same cot as before, he considered that skekSa had likely stayed awake whilst he slept the first night, and had been awake all day with him. After they had reached safety, she had been creating with him, and after created alone. She was sewing herself new clothes, and even at that moment searched the seas for points of interest, her old robes the only protection from the cold of the night. “The Southern Clan will be able to man their oars,” she had explained. “Once they finish repairing their ships, they’ll be able to follow us when the wind has stopped. If we fail to throw them off the trail, they’ll catch up eventually. We need every advantage we can find out here if we’re going to fed them off.” It was odd that she spoke as if he would fight by her side against his own people, against his family. Yet, he couldn’t imagine betraying her complete trust, nor did he ever want to see such a free spirit restrained. Not again.

At the very least, he could help her while it didn’t require him to harm others, and he stepped right back out of the cot, storming back onto the top deck. He lifted his palm up and thought about the sight of skekSa in the brilliant light of the morning suns, a bright spirit light illuminating the ship in the darkening twilight. “SkekSa!” He called. “You haven’t slept in two days! Let me take this watch!”

An avian head poked over the side of the crow’s nest to stare down at him, the predatory grin from her eager searching shifting into a warm smile as her gaze fell on him, her telescope being idly spun in a secondary hand. “’i there, matey! Heehee… Don’t ye worry yer pretty face about me, young lad.” She paused in her largely slurred speech to take another swig from a bottle Lanar had missed until that moment, his eyes narrowing in concern.

“How much nectarwine have you downed since we left?”

SkekSa scoffed and shook out her neck feathers, showing teeth with an exaggerated frown. “Whazzat got to do with anythin’?” Lanar made an attempt to give her the kind of look his father used to give him when he was caught venturing out too close to the areas of the swamp patrolled by the Garthim, but he was undermined when he wobbled into the mast and backward again, holding his head in an attempt to ward off dizziness. “Looks like yer sealegs are still comin’ in, dear. Might want to have a lean on that mast before ye fall over.”

“It’s my job to take care of you out here, Captain!” He called back, defiantly standing his ground. “A leader can’t make proper decisions without rest, and I’m the only help you have out here. I have to do something! Don’t I?”

This gave The Mariner pause, and after a moment of contemplating the idea of leaving herself to this Gelfling’s mercy for a bit of sleep, she decided it wouldn’t be a problem, so long as it was indeed this Gelfling in particular and no others. She hadn’t really been considering the source of her restlessness until now, but it had been due to a reluctance to let her guard down so fully. “Alright, lad, ye’ve made yer point, but here’s mine. Ye don’t have the experience to keep on tonight and I do. My eyes are better suited to the dark, too. As yer Captain, I urge ye to go get yer rest, but… as a compromise, if ye do, I’ll take myself a rest first thing in the mornin’. Ye’re all the help I’ve got and vice versa, just as ye said, so we’ll have to start tradin’ off watches anyway, right?”

Lanar slowly nodded, coming to grips with the idea. “And you won’t do this to yourself again? From here onward you’ll sleep each day, so these night watches are no great burden?”

SkekSa nodded right back, fast and lively. “Aye. I swear it on the Crystal.” The Crystal was important to all creatures of Thra, and Lanar trusted what was sworn by it.

“Very well. I shall sleep, but when I return then it’s your turn.” SkekSa continued to make comically large nods until Lanar was out of sight, and then she corked her alcohol to focus on her task.

  
  


True to her word, skekSa collapsed into the chair Lanar had made her and slept when the morning came. Since they didn’t have a destination other than _away_ _from Skarith_, Lanar didn’t need skekSa’s expertise to keep the ship moving. All they could rely on was the wind in their sails. When he spotted another of the enticing lures of the monstrous beasts beneath the waves he simply steered them away from it. As he did, he noticed a number of notches on the railing near the wheel, as if dug by skekSa’s claw. He could guess their meaning, and used his vliyaya to add another mark. They were the angles of turns taken, with numerals in Skexish. A long glance at the sky let Lanar judge the time since he’d taken over, and he marked that with a Gelfling numeral. SkekSa could fill in the missing time later, to keep their guide accurate.

It was interesting to him to see that she was keeping such turns on record, as if she planned to return to the Skarith region at some point. Whether this was due to some sentimental reason, or simply because there may not be any other lands out on the seas, he did not know. What he did know was that he could not plot a course back if he could not read the Skexish numbers.

The thought came at an odd time, as he’d already decided to follow skekSa for the moment, but it did make him consider his bleak situation with more depth. If they successfully evaded his family, then he may very well never see another Gelfling again, which wouldn’t do him any good in the business of starting a family. Even with the company of other beings, it felt like a lonely prospect, something skekSa herself was likely familiar with if most of the stories were true. Yet, if they were caught then skekSa and urSan would surely die. If his people were incensed enough to chase them in the first place, then he was sure they would take their vengeance on his captor, coincidental though his capture may have been.

He shook his head and banished the thoughts. “They don’t care about me anyway. SkekSa is wrong. They aren’t coming.” That settled that. He would hope to find someplace else to call home.

This went on for several days, skekSa making progress on her new robes all the while. She also had Lanar do esoteric things with his vliyaya to sea water and lotions found in their supplies, which she then mixed in an emptied barrel to extract some odd blue salts. She sprinkled it over the rust on her metallic armor, sword, and dagger, a process that seemed to mitigate and limit the damage. “It’s not a perfect restoration, but it’s the best that can be managed right now,” she’d said. “Should make it more comfortable, at least. Less effort than making all new pieces in a forge… or making a damn forge first, for that matter.”

  
  


There was a bitterness in skekSa for the next week after that, in spite of how impressed Lanar was with her restored robes. She would often mention how much warmer she was with spite in her voice, and stared off over the sea with a longing in her eyes. Lanar heard her muttering about her former, living vessel, Vassa, while drinking nectarwine. While Lanar was waiting for her bad mood to end, he was adjusting to the scent of salt water. With each day that passed, his sinuses felt clearer, until the grime and the humidity of the swamp seemed like a distant memory. He had never known any other place, and being in such a different environment thrilled him, even while there was very little to do.

On the seventeenth day of their journey, Lanar asked skekSa to teach him how to use the manual sewing machine. “Aye, dear. That would help the time flow.” SkekSa had to be there with him while he was using it, because he did not have enough limbs to crank the machine and guide the cloth at the same time. Once he had a grasp on the basics, skekSa showed him how she had used double-layering to get an inner color for her new robes that differed from the outer, and his would match. Rustic red on the interior, something close to royal blue on the exterior. “These Drenchen dyes are too dull for my tastes, but it is to be expected. All of these clothes were made in Sog. Perhaps we can find something as bright as the Sifan once used if we ever reach land.”

By the thirty-first day since their departure, all barriers of distrust had been eroded into ghosts of what they once were. Lanar’s First Mate robes were finished and he continued to wear his leather armor underneath. His hunting knife, sling and five throwing rocks were all accounted for on his belt. SkekSa had gone over her own equipment, showing that she was in possession of three more daggers than he had seen before. All four of her daggers and her sword were rusted, but functional. She had also explained her remaining thunder egg to him, which had left him astonished for some time. “You know,” she’d mentioned with a conniving grin, “I bet I could combine the idea of that sling you have with what’s in this egg to make something truly powerful, if I can make my own booming powder first.” The captain also deigned to give him one of her daggers, saying, “One should always have a backup on hand, dear.”

As time carried on into the second unum, skekSa and Lanar spent a lot of time fishing to occupy their minds. The Southern Clan of Gelfling had prepared for such an eventuality, so the vessel had a cooking pit near the main mast that they used to prepare their catches whenever Lanar wanted some. SkekSa often complained about the position of the cooking pit and its exposure during storms, and she ate her fish raw to save the fire logs for her First Mate.

The more time passed, the more their small deceptions weighed on their minds, especially so for the Skeksis. Lanar merely thought he was deceiving her, yet she knew what his lie was. Not only had she kept this from him, but she’d also never mentioned that she had killed Amri, Lanar’s father. So long as Lanar thought she didn’t know what family he belonged to, she could reveal the death of Amri without also revealing that she had never been fooled by him in the least. She stewed in discontentment often, considering the damage that would be done to Lanar’s fragile ego if he ever found out his lies had been entirely ineffectual, and she also wished that she could allow him to mourn in peace.

Neither of them spoke on such subjects when together, however, and trust grew with mutual respect. Their deceptions only troubled them in private moments during their watches, and their comfort from keeping one another company made it easier to endure.

  
  


One day in the early morning, while they were neither of them taking a rest, Lanar stared out at the great expanse of blue water and blue sky with a heavy thought. “SkekSa,” he began with a small voice, the vastness before them making him worry. “What happens if we never find any land? If there isn’t any to find? What if the Skarith Region is all the land there is?”

SkekSa looked down kindly upon Lanar, the hand he’d re-attached to her arm laid comfortingly upon his back. “Then we’ll sail on, find a spot with plenty of fish, and wait for the war to end. Stubborn as our peoples are, I don’t think they can keep it up forever. I would welcome the excitement of something new, though.” Even as she spoke, skekSa found herself squinting at a distant blot in the sky. She took out her spyglass and took a closer look. Her words had calmed Lanar, but not for long, as he was presently fretting about what she was looking at.

“Is that dark cloud a precursor to a storm?” Lanar gripped the rail as if to get a closer look, and skekSa suppressed the urge to giggle at him, passing down the spyglass instead.

“It’s not a cloud of that sort, dear. I haven’t seen their exact like before, but I can’t imagine any insects would be out over the ocean unless there is land nearby. Take it as a good sign, lad.” Yet, her optimism took a hit every few minutes, as the cloud of insects drew closer and closer, diverting their course as if drawn to the ship by something. SkekSa cursed in Skexish and was suddenly clambering up the main mast with an impressive show of athleticism. “Close the sails, matey!” She yelled urgently, and Lanar scurried over to the foremast to begin his climb. SkekSa worked with incredible speed, but she was alone in a task that would take a full crew to be done with any haste, and Lanar fared even worse.

The slow and methodical way in which they’d managed their affairs previously was simply not good enough in this instance, and they had no help. Lanar was at the edge of the cross, bundling up the sail beneath him while another billowed above, when he called out to the sea urgently. “UrSan! Please help us, urSan!”

Then, within the next minute, the massive insects were descending upon the sails by the dozen, their bodies as large as Lanar’s head and their tall wings half as long as his arms. He saw the one nearest him gnawing at the sail above his head, beginning to eat a hole into the vital cloth. “No!” He shouted in dismay, pulling skekSa’s dagger from his belt and plunging it through the soft carapace, yellow blood splattering back over his face as he did. After repeating the stab twice more, the creature was felled, and its corpse fell lifeless from the sail, but countless more had landed and begun to feed, including one upon Lanar’s back. “Not the coat!” He screamed angrily, running backward to smash the creature apart between his back and the foremast.

A nasty squelching noise signaled the end of that particular pest, and Lanar drew his hunting knife from his belt, stabbing as quickly as he could at ever insect in reach. He could scarcely kill them quickly enough to clear a spot of sail for even a second as more and more swarmed into the freed space each time. Indeed, the white sail was soon impossible to see past the cloud of dark bodies, and Lanar’s motions became more frantic and quick as panic gripped his heart.

“Yaaaarrrr!” SkekSa came swinging from the main mast with a length of rope in one hand, and all three of the others swinging blades. Splotches of the yellow blood covered her from beak to talons, her tail whipping more of the insects from the air as she landed. Her long, rusted sword slashed through swathes of the feasting insects as she came at them along the length of the cross, reversing direction when she reached Lanar to take the lives of the next wave without pause. Her other limbs jabbed daggers into those cloth-eaters that still flew around her, reducing their numbers at staggering speeds. Lanar was shocked to witness it, the insects swarming at them still, as if they had no instincts of self-preservation at all. “Bundle it as I go, matey!” Lanar quickly climbed to the higher cross to start tying up what was left of the last sail, the insects not able to reach as much at once when the whole of it wasn’t unfurled for them.

By the time Lanar was finished, the flock was thinned enough that he could see the other mast again and bundled sails that skekSa had managed alone. The Skeksis was spinning her blades in a reckless and relentless dance of death, snarling in defiance. The rate of their loss had been mitigated, but not halted, and the unguarded bundles on the other mast were being steadily devoured. “Curse it! Damn you all!” Lanar slashed out in anger at another of the overgrown moths, just as a particularly heavy one slammed into his back to get at his coat. He lost his balance and fell forward, shouting in distress as he began to fall toward the deck.

“Lanar!” SkekSa tossed a dagger into the insect on Lanar’s back, but it was too late: he was already falling. Dropping all her blades, skekSa dug her talons into the wood and threw her weight forward, reaching out her restored hand to grip Lanar’s coat in her claws, catching him just before he could fall past her reach. “Gotcha!”

Lanar was suspended in the air, watching an urRu clamber over the rail of the ship and drop onto the deck. She had heard his call for help. Her sonorous voice carried to them on the wind as she started to chant, swaying back and forth and weaving her arms in esoteric patterns in the air. She gripped a shell in a hand that Lanar had always known her not to have, and at the conclusion to her chant she waved the shell toward the back of the ship. The insects shuddered in the air, and then they all flew together in the indicated direction, as if compelled by urSan’s voice to leave. SkekSa drew Lanar in close and hugged him to her chest, staring unblinking down at her counterpart. The urRu blinked slowly, nodded to herself while watching the insects leave, then turned toward them and smiled softly. Lanar nodded back, and then urSan was gone, having jumped over the rail and back into the sea.


End file.
